Train at the End of the Tunnel
by seeXlifeXin69
Summary: Most of the Voices have vanished for a short time but something else returns that helps Johnny through his problems, he just can't decide what to do with her. He's killed much prettier girls, but not any with quite so many problems. Can he help her escape
1. Genisis

I couldn't do it, I couldn't keep going. I couldn't run anymore, I couldn't even see through the thick sheet of rain pouring down around me. I fell to my knees, grasping the hard concrete below my hands, I made my way over to something soft, small patches of grass and dirt. I tried to remain on my knees, but I fell to the side, my head swirling with nausea and exaustion. I gave in to the weakness.

Don't fall asleep Aubry. You know what will happen, they'll come back, they always do. They'll get you.

It was right, I knew they would find me, it was useless to run, and I knew that for a fact. They would find me again. It was all my fault. I felt hunted, but I knew I had no chance of getting away.

xxxxxx

Johnny sighed as he looked out the window for the seventh time, then looking back down at his sketch pad. "Fuckin rain..." he grumbled as he tapped his pencil, craving a brain freezy. He looked out the window once more, knowing that it wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He dropped his pencil on the empty paper, snatching his coat from off the floor. He hadn't spoken to anyone in a week, the doughboys were gone, Mr. Samsa and Nailbunny had disapeared, and so on. Plus, it would be easier to get his urges satisfied without the hastle of long lines and other complications. Maybe while he was out, he would get a taco, he hadn't eaten in a few days. Throwing open the door, he couldn't see more than a foot in front of him, and with his first step out of the door, he was soaked.

Whistling as he began his stroll, something seemed different. Something was slumped over on his lawn. A dead animal? No, it was too big to be road kill, or anything type of dead domestic pet. He stood there, sheilding his eyes from the rain, trying to figure out what it was. He squished through the mud to investigate the mass lying there.

A person? They were completly wet and muddy. He didn't understand how someone could just take a nap in the middle of a major storm, and on someone's lawn...

He sighed angrily, wanting highly sugared foods from the 24/7, but knowing that he couldn't just leave them there, perhaps they would put up a good fight, and that would entertain him for a while. Smiling to himself, he simply picked them up, they weren't that heavy at all. He noticed that a simply napping person would wake up at the sudden lift, perhaps they were dead...that'd be no fun at all.

He walked inside and downstairs with ease as the body hung limply over his shoulder. He dropped the load on the floor of the bathroom, walking away to take off his jacket and wring out his hair. He looked over, it's face was turned the other way, but wait a minute...

She? He grabbed a towel and walked back over, turning the face of his possible vicitm towards him. He was right, it was a girl. Her face was caked with mud and something he saw all too often, blood. He wiped it off, a face of youth, but how old was she? More of a question would be _who_ was she. He noticed a wallet chain and yanked it, pulling out a black wallet with some logo on it. Opening it, he found a credit card with a man's name on it, a frequent buyer card to a franchize cafe and a few pictures. There was also a large sum of money, not a great amount, but he wouldn't walk around the neighborhood with it in his pocket. There was a drivers licenence as well, _Aubry McCleary_, she was eighteen, so not so much a youth anymore. Her clothes looked tattered and ragged, her shoes almost worn out, he then realized what she was...a runaway. He felt a sudden feeling of compassion for her spread over him, he had been in the very same situation once, but that was a different story. He slipped the wallet back into her pocket. Sitting down, he tried to figure out what to do. He didn't want to kill her, even though that was probably the best idea. "I'll kill you later." he whispered to her, even though she couldn't hear him, so it was more to himself.

He looked at her face, there was a long cut running across her forehead, it had probably happened within the past week. Inbetween the holes in her jeans he could see blood, where it looks like she had just skinned her knees. This kid was a wreck. And behind the mud, blood, water and whatever else there was, he saw a glimpse of himself. Well, not _himself,. _but he remembered when he had ran away. He had been taken in by a man who found him sleeping in an alleyway, the guy was so Christ-like, he fed him, gave him clothes, money, and advice, and not once did he feel judged. If it hadn't been for that guy, he would probably still be a hobo.

Hobo is a funny word.

He grabbed her hands and pulled her up, setting her sitting up against a wall, he took the towel and finished getting the grime off her face. Her hair was blonde, her nails were done, she had definatly not been homeless, he guessed she'd been from a decently wealthy family. She was wearing a band shirt with jeans and hightops, and he could see that she wore heavy eye make up, even though most of it had ran down her face. Yes, he would admit, she was pretty, but he had killed much prettier girls.


	2. Unfolding

Before hand talk: Okay. Sorry it took so long to finish this one! Way too busy with highschool and all those excuses. Would love your imput and opinions on the story so far, I thought I knew where I was going to lead this, but now I'm confused.

..Now back to the story...

It was still raining outside...rediculous. He had been unable to go anywhere, for in fear that the girl would wake up with him not there. He didn't really know what to do with her.

Should he try and wake her? She was sopping wet, should he redress her? Or leave her there?

He quickly ran to his room, or at least where he kept his clothes, fussily picking out a dry outfit for himself after noticing he was still sopping wet.. Stopping to think if he should get some for her too. How many people had he killed, honestly? And how many of them were women? How could he not have any feminine clothes just lying around?

He though upon it, just for a moment, then knowing why; why would he want women's clothes? The reason was good enough for him. The physical temptation of hunger rose once again in his stomach, this time the craving for a taco at the Dirty Burrito, with a nice brainfreezy to wash it down. His stomach growled as he scribbled a note, folding it neatly and tossing it by her side. He had moved her out of the bathroom and into his drawing room, the only door that would lock someone in. He grabbed his coat yet again, locking the door to the room behind him as he walked out.

Throbbing. Each pump of blood sent pain through my head branching out through my body.

Ouch.

I contorted my face in a mixture of nasuea and headache, blinking, trying to fix my vision. The room was dark, a small bendable lamp sat on a desk on the other side of the room, light shining on a blank sketch pad. An erupting trashcan sat next to the desk with pencil shavings spread out around it.

_Where the fuck...?_

They had caught me. Again, they had done it again, I was sure of it. The thoughts surrounding the past week filled my head, buzzing around in a large foggy cloud.

But there were no gaurds. No large, two sizes to large, beefy, 'I cant benchpress your mother' guards. I didn't see _him_ either. For a moment, all fear had vanished, maybe they hadn't caught me. But...then where was I? I sat myself up, making sure no one was there with me. My hand ran over something, I looked down, grasping what I had found, folded paper? I didn't want to open it, I didn't even want to know what it said!

But...just what if... it was from Dad?

The thought forced me to tear at the paper, it might be from my Dad! Maybe they hadn't killed him, maybe they were all okay! I knew it wasn't true, but the thought was so pure and real at the time, it was a crutch for my soul to lean on.

It wasn't from my Dad.

_"Dear Aubry M., _

_Went to get some yummies, will be back with some soon._

_Left some dry clothes in the corner, change if you wish._

_Make your self at home._

_Well...not too much at home..._

_Johnny C."_

Johnny C.?

Who the fuck was that? Where was I anyway?

I looked out the window, it was raining so hard I couldn't see much. I started to remember the last few moments before I had blacked out.

_Johnny C._

Finally registering in my head, I realized it was a man's name. I looked over myself, making sure I hadn't been touched, making sure my clothes were still on the way I had them on, my shirt still wrinkled the way it was, pants still buttoned, shoes still the same way I had tied them. Nothing. I mentally scolded myself for thinking such thoughts, but I knew people were fucked up, I was not about to take any chances. A chill swam through me as I noticed that I was soaked to the bone, running my eyes over the note again, I looked over at the clothes. I took a deep breath, planting my feet on the floor, ignoring the aching and pain I stood up and inched over towards the corner of the dank room. I bent down, supporting myself by placing a hand on the wall, taking the garments in my hand. I glanced over at the door, praying that it wouldn't open, as I slowly peeled off the sodden attire.

Something caught my eye, I had been touched, I was no longer muddy, no longer bloody. I felt my heart beat louder, ever so slightly. But after a moment, I realized the violation was out of compassion. I knew that I was not in the care of the people I presumed I was, they would have killed me by now. No, this person had no intention of killing me...at least not yet.

Johnny had to drag himself from the horrid stench that is the Dirty Burrito. He sipped on his Fuzzberry ice sucky as he strolled home, the rain had almost stopped. He had gotten an extra taco, just on the off chance that she was awake, and that he felt kind enough to give it to her.

He was in the middle of comtimplating other ways of torture as he bumped into a large 'mob man' looking chap, who was talking on the phone.

"No boss, we havn't found her yet." he said in a thick accent, he growled at Johnny as their shoulders met in the middle of the sidewalk, but quickly adverted his attention back to his phone and the man that was clearly screaming at him through it. Johnny quickly connected Aubry to this situation, then shrugging it off to get home before the sun peaked out behind the clouds, making it ubearably hot.


	3. Todd Needs Tacos

Note to Not-Self: This is a bit short and a bit not detaily and a bit crappy. I am so busy this weekend and I didn't want to go so long without writing another chapter. I need an editor. Anyone volunteer?

Todd looked out his window at his strange neighbor. He was carrying a bag from the Dirty Burrito, Todd loved that fast food place.

"Mommy?" he yelled out, waiting a few seconds for a reply, nothing, as usual. He placed a hand on his rumbling stomach, wishing that Johnny, although he scared Todd to death, would bring him a taco or some other form of nutrient. He grabbed Shmee and whispered something in his ear as he crept downstairs to see what his parents were so preoccupied with.

Johnny looked over through Squee's little window, he thought he saw him looking back, but in a moment, the small round face had dissapeared. He heard yelling comming from the house nextdoor, and a feeling of sorrow came over him, he really did like little Squee, he didn't deserve to live with those fucks.

He opened the door the house, it was always unlocked, setting the bag on the counter of his kitchen. Grabbing a plate that looked clean from the sink, dropping a taco on it. He heard a noise comming from his drawing room, which was just down the hall, smiling to himself as he walked down the hall, the only sound he made was the unlocking of the door.

Opening the door, he saw what he hoped he would, a young girl who was finally awake. She was looking through his sketch book, softly holding the pages, making sure not to crease or bend them. He noticed she had changed clothes, looking very fragile in his wardrobe of a baggy shirt and tight black pants.

"Good afternoon." he said boldly, smirking as she gasped and flung around. "I brought you a taco."

She stood against the wall, looking so vunlerable and scared. That was his favorite body expression, helplessness. "Well, don't be rude. I did practically save your life, the least you can do is accept this form of kindness." He sat down on the floor with his legs crossed. He slid the plate to her feet gracefully, leaning back against the wall across from her, "My name is Johnny." She opened her mouth, but he interupted her, "Your Aubry, I know." She looked a little taken back by this, sitting down 'indian style' as well, still stiff from fright. "Your probably wondering why your here...am I correct?" Johnny smiled.

"Actually, I don't really care where I am. I already figured out where I'm _not_ and that's all I care about. You could be a homicidal maniac and I wouldn't give a damn." she said, streaching out her legs, looking at the plate of food in front of her. Johnny laughed to himself.

"Glad to hear that." he said softly.

"Excuse me?" she asked, looking up at him through the darkness of the room.

"Nothing..." he grinned again, "What I'm really wondering is why your here in the first place." he cocked his head lazily to one side.

"It's a long story." her voice shrank to the tone of a scolded little girl.

"I've got time, go ahead."

"They're looking for me." she said glancing out the window in a shock of paranoia. "I killed one of them, and now they're looking for me."

"You killed someone?" he asked, looking at this empitome of innocence, this little rich girl, who was obviously lying to his face.

She glanced over at him with a fire in her eye, a very familliar one. He didn't doubt the fact that she could murder someone after that. "So who'd you kill? If I may ask..."

"Tony Lachino."

"Damn." Johnny said as the man who ran into him intruded into his thoughs.


	4. Enne and I

I realized I hadn't seen the sun for at least a week. It peaked through a large storm cloud overhead, leaving a single ray to protrude through the window, leaving a small strip of me warmed by the sunray. I sat on the wooden floor, moving my fingers though the light as if it were palpable. I was sick of waiting. I wanted this Johnny fellow to come back.

I was confused about many things, so confused actutally, that I wasn't confused at all, if that makes any sense. I had no clue where I was, who I was with, or what I was going to do, but that didn't bother me. Something that _did_ bother me, is that I had told Johnny my story.

I didn't like telling people anything about me, especially not anything like this.

Yeah, I'll admit I killed him, he fuckin' deserved it too. But he had connections, well, not him exactically, but his father.

His father, Markus Lacino, a mob boss. Yeah, I know exactically what your thinking. I knew it who he was too, I knew who his father was, I just didn't like him. He tried to rape me in an alley once, I had every reason to hate him.

Although he didn't know it was me at the time, but I had been watching him for a while after that. What else was I suposed to do, with Sweet Revenge always urging me to take his life. She had been following me for a while, I had gotten used to her, calling her Sweety. Many of the other voices had gone away during that time, I missed them.

Actually, I had figured out they weren't really just random voices, but a reflection of different sides of myself, but they would get angry if they heard me say that.

I looked out the window again, the sun had yet again dissapeared behind the storm. This time, however, my eyes met another's. A young boy was peeping out of a window of the second story of the neighboring house. He had large frightened eyes with short black hair, a very small little boy. As we held our eyes together, he slowly raised his hand, which was still grasping a beaten up teadybear, giving a small wave. I smiled and waved back.

He turned his head quickly, as if someone had called his name, looking back one more time before scampering away from sight. In good timing, Johnny walked through the door, this time, I felt no fear, for I had no reason to.

"Feeling well?" He asked, sitting down on the chair at the desk.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." I sighed out of boredom, I had been here, or at least been awake for a few hours, and I have yet to do anything but sit and look out the window.

"You can leave this room if you want..." he raised an eyebrow.

I looked out into the hall with curiosity, "I do have to use the restroom." I lied, it was a good excuse to give me enough time to explore. I stood up, I had almost walked out into the hall when Johnny said over his shoulder, "If you really are going to the bathroom, it's down the hall. But I doubt that, so just don't go down stairs." I could tell he was smiling.

I smiled myself, looking at the door that probably lead down to the basement. Normally I would have just went down there, but I felt a need to be polite, so I would wait till he wasn't around to snoop.

Johnny was a fairly nice guy, at least the side that he has shown me. He was very tall, pushing six foot, and sickly thin. He was probably just over one hundred pounds. He wore mostly black, a trench coat with tight black pants and rather stylish combat boots, all that made him look even slimmer. His skin was very contrast against his black hair full of spikes.

He reminded me of myself in some ways. Except I don't think he's killed anyone before, at least he didn't seem like it.

_You don't look like you'd kill anyone._

"Shut up Enne." I whispered, "Don't scare me."

_I'm just saying...I mean, you awoke one day to find yourself in a house with a strange man. You watch Order & Law, you should know what can happen._

"Hey." I silenced the voice, "Who would you rather be with? A strange man or a group of tourtureous men that will kill us? Eh?" She didn't answer. Enne had pretty good opinions most of the time, but she got a little paraniod. I would much rather talk to her than any of the others, she was the only one who didn't really have a form, she was just this voice. Sometimes I feel crazy.

_You are crazy._

"Shut up." I laughed.

"Uh, were you talking to someone?" I turned to see Johnny looking strangely at me.

"No...uh...just myself." I smiled as he shrugged and dissapeared.

'_'Wow Johnny, she is crazy. Just like you.'_

I heard someone say from inside the same room Johnny was in. As he was mumbling a reply, I stuck my head in. Strange. A floating rabbit head. Johnny lifted his head towards me, then looking at the odd floating head.

"Can you see him?" He turning his head to one side in fasination.

"Yeah, it's floating right there?" I said, comming farther into the room.

_I don't think your suposed to be able to see him._

"No your not." Johnny said.


	5. And the Chorus Swells!

A slight draft came through all the way to the corner of the room where I sat, knees to my chest, staring out the window. I was waiting for the strange little boy to come back to the window. I even glanced out the front door a few times, waiting for the mailman, any human contact would do. After what I fondly call the _incident_, Johnny had taken off the go to work, and left me alone to try and sort things out, the bastard.

In the middle of an abstract though, I heard a chime at the front door. I grunted, actually comfortable on the hard wood floor, and forced myself to take about eleven steps to the door. I didn't really know if I should be answering the door, I mean, it wasn't my house. I didn't really even know the guy who _owned_ the house…my manners told me I shouldn't open it.

So I opened the door, and there stood a gangly teenager with what looked like pock marked face, but was only the sweet bud of acne in the dawning of human life. A large, swollen, white filled bump stood out upon his nose, and reminded me much of the snow capped Mt. Kilimanjaro, something my old geography teacher ranted about.

"Can I help you?" I asked, looking at his bright yellow uniform with a neon red trim. A name tag with _Chuck_ with _The Dirty Burrito _hung loosely clipped to his shirt. "Can I help you, Chuck?" I said after a moment of silence.

He mumbled, and pulled a bag out of lumps, and handed it to me. I nosily looked in the bag. Tacos were piled up, with a quickly folded note thrown on top. He turned around to leave before I could tell him I had no money to pay for this.

I trudged back into the drawing room, my self declared room, and sat back in the corner. I put the bag in the center of my crossed legs and dug inside to get the note.

_Aubry,_

_Before I left for work, I noticed that you're looking sickly skinny. I'm sure you could go another few days or so without eating, but then we made a double order accidentally, so I have all these tacos. Being the semi-nice fellow I am, I guessed that you'd enjoy them. Don't be a fat ass and leave a few for me when I get home later. _

_Johnny C._

I grabbed the first taco I could reach and ripped of the paper, engorging myself to the point of being disgusting. But I honestly didn't care, no one was watching me. And even if someone was home, I wouldn't give two shits. I was hungry, last time, when Johnny gave me a taco; I was too upset to eat it. What's with him and tacos? The last time I remember eating something with actual nutritional value was when they had me locked up in a basement.

They weren't very good at torturing people. They starved me for a day and a half, which didn't bother me, because I did that on a normal basis. They threw ice water on me when I wouldn't do what I was told. Other wise, they just locked me in a basement, the only form of entertainment was reading moldy books on an almost broken bookshelf; and if they called that punishment, then I love to be punished baby. It was stupid really, they didn't even grasp the whole situation…

Here's what happened, just like it happened.

_I had lied to my Dad and told him I was at a friend's house, but really we were driving around having fun; a concept my Dad didn't understand. After going out to eat, they dropped me off at the end of my street, so I could sneak in my window, because most likely the parental unit wasn't home. I was used to walking my street alone in the dark, so it was really no biggie. The trees swayed with the wind as it howled in the night, which I thought calming. Although I was calm, I had the feeling that I was being watched…so I turned to look around, and there he was. Tony fucking Lachino, the skinny ass bastard who was too occupied with 'scoring' to actually see that he was hideous and very unappealing. _

"_What are you doing here?" all of my anxiousness dissipated, he was no threat to me. _

"_You know we're supposed to get married, when you're eighteen. So I thought that we should start practicing for our wedding night." he said in a corny kind of cockiness. What a douche bag. _

"_Fuck off Tony; you know I'm not going to fuck you, much less waste matrimony on you." I turned to walk off. _

_He lunged forward and grabbed me by the shoulders, "My dad and your dad already made an agreement, so you can loose the attitude, when you're eighteen, your mine. Deal with it." _

_I fingered the pocket knife I had in my pocket, usually I didn't carry it around, but when I went romping through the woods I usually had it with me. "Don't fuck with me Tony, go fuck with some other girl who actually gives a shit about you." _

_His grasp tightened, as did mine on my weapon. _

"_Fuck you." he smirked, pushing me to the ground, having quite a plan on his mind. He pinned me down, running his hand up my shirt._

"_Very funny Tony, I'll give you to the count of five to get the fuck off."_

"_Or what? What are you going to do?" _

"_One"_

_He smiled, acting like I was just kidding._

"_Two." _

_His smile widened as he ran his hand over my bra._

"_Three."_

_He bent down to kiss my neck and attempt to unhook my bra._

"_Four."_

_His fingers fumbled with the clasp, what a looser, couldn't even unhook the bra._

"_Five." I swiftly opened my folding Swiss Army pocket knife, stabbing it into the shallow space between his neck and his shoulders. A howl of agony pierced the sky._

"_Shut up, you're going to draw attention." I got out from under him, thinking back to Anatomy, and found the voice-box, driving the knife deep into it. He gurgled what would have probably been 'What the fuck is wrong with you?!' or 'What the hell are you doing?!' but no sound escaped his throat, only spatters of blood. _

"_You bastard, you really had this coming." I cleanly cut his shirt off, exposing his too-pale-to-be-an-Italian stomach. "And, I told you I'd count to five…" I flipped down the knife, and opened the minuscule pair of scissors. _

"_Listen, I'll go through them again…One."_

_I dug the cutters into his flesh._

"_Two."_

_I slowly began to make a long cut from the top of his stomach to his belt buckle. _

"_Three."_

_I made an incision from one nipple to the other, making a cross, which I thought was pretty good for being in human skin. _

"_Four."_

_I put the pair of scissors back in and popped open the knife again. I undid his belt, and zipper, pulling his pants down to his knees. Okay, I have been told that Italians are 'packing' a little extra down below, but Tony must have been an exception. I used the very tip, pressing down very firmly, and with a few cuts, I had "de-sausaged" him. Of course, he had passed out by now, being the little pansy he is, he fainted when I make the first incision. I stuffed the bloody genital into his agape mouth. _

_I flipped him over, his head to the side, mouth filled with crimson cock, and pulled the remnant of his shirt off. I used this very time to be somewhat of a smart ass. I carved 'There is no hope for me, Satan, take me and fuck me. No salvation for Cock-Mouth'._

_I smiled, feeling artsy and poetic. I left him right there in the middle of the road, someone would find him eventually. I walked the rest of the way home humming a little ditty from Placebo, feeling quite happy with myself. _


	6. Senor Diablo, Satan, friend

I eyed the taco, unsure if I wanted to eat it. The remains of the night I killed Tony still lurked in my memory, and I was too happy with myself to eat. That, and the fact that I think there might be a bug crawling around inside.

I took a short breath through my nose, a sharp odor stung my nostrils. I breathed deeper, I've smelled that smell before. It was as if someone took a large rock of sulfur and set it on a grill, with a hint of mesquite barbeque sauce. I smiled.

"What are you doing here?" I said, my eyes remaining down on the bag.

"To come see you of course, I do often miss your company…" I heard him, his voice deeper than I remembered it. Simultaneous laughter erupted out of the both of us.

I looked up to see his face, I had missed him terribly. He stood so tall that he almost had to duck to keep from smacking the ten foot ceiling. He was bony; and there was no real depth to his face, his eyes placed in two large holes. He was thinner than anyone I had ever seen; sometimes I think that if I were to rip his dashing cloak from him, there would be nothing underneath. Large horns curved around where his ears were supposed to be. If he wasn't the Devil, I would question how he functioned.

"Luci!" I stood up quickly, throwing my arms around his middle, because that was all I could reach.

"Aubry, it's been too long, don't you agree?" he placed his hands affectionately on my shoulders.

"Yes, I haven't played a good game of Twister in a long time!" I gazed up at him and smiled childishly.

"Well, you know I always win anyway, so what's the use?"

"You only win because you can move the dots around! If you were human, I'd beat you in a heartbeat!" We both smiled at this.

Luci, Lucifer, Satan, Senior Diablo, it was all the same to me. He was one of my dearest friends, well, that wasn't inside my head. He had shown up shortly after my little encounter with the son of the Italian mob boss. Actually, I saw him as I was washing the blood from my hands, he showed up in my mirror. It was scary at first to think that someone could just show up willy-nilly in my bathroom mirror, but when I realized it was just Satan, I calmed down a bit. 'Great job back there; I found it very amusing!' And after that, we became close, simple as that. Well, actually, as un-simple as that (as you can imagine, keeping any kind of relationship with the Devil is often stressful…).

"What are you really doing here?" I broke my embrace, sitting to the floor where he joined me.

"I just wanted to visit you, see how things were, if you had killed anyone lately, to see if you've died, you know…the usual." He smiled, sitting down and leaning back on his two hands. He really wasn't frightening, or anything like any religious book had depicted him.

"Well, let's see…The Mob captured me, tortured me, but I escaped. Obviously I'm not dead, because I'm sitting in front of you. Unless…can you kill me and bring me to hell? It sort of sucks here…"

He smiled, "No, I'm not here to bring you back to Hell with me, you know I can't have any one living in Hell for too long, the citizens start getting whiny.

"So where are you?" he asked after a moment of looking around.

"I have no clue. Some guys house. He saved me, so I think I should at least properly thank him before I take off. Where do you think I should go?"

"You need to stay here, Aubry, at least for a little while longer." He looked nervously at the door, and added quickly, "Take a shower in a few minutes, we can talk there…" And as soon as he came, he disappeared.

And just as soon as my dear friend, the Devil, disappeared Johnny came walking through the door.

As he walked in, his nose began to sniff, as mine did. "Did you grill a piece of sulfur?" he added, "And is that tangy barbeque sauce?"

"Mesquite actually…" I corrected. "How was work?"

"Horrible actually, but it's no change from the norm. How did you like your tacos?" he yawned and collapsed into his drawing chair.

"I haven't had a chance to eat them yet, but thanks, I appreciate it." I stood back up, rocking on my heels during a long pause. "Well, do you mind if I take a shower? I haven't had a good wash in a while…"

He looked at me for a minute, then shook out of his space staring. "Of course, sorry, come with me." The bathroom was relatively small, just a sink, a shower, and a toilet. Oh, and a cracked mirror, but I could still make out my reflection. "I'll go get you a towel and you just pull the knob to get the shower to work." He closed the door behind him.

Slipping my clothes off, I couldn't help but to feel watched. I set my clothes folded neatly on the top of the toilet seat, leaving my shoes on the floor beside it. The shower was similar to the one at home, so it was familiar and easy to work.

Have you ever tried to shower at someone's house, and you can't work their shower? That's a bitch.

I stepped in, realizing it was scolding hot, but stood in the stream of water until it cooled. I heard Johnny come in, "Here's a towel…and here is some shampoo, I think I might be out."

I pulled open the shower curtain, taking the cheap brand name bottle out of his hands. I shut it without a hesitating; ignoring the fact that he just saw me without clothes. I didn't really care that he could rape me, or that he could be some weird stalker, all I cared about was scrubbing off all the remnants of the past few days.

"You know he just saw you without any clothes, right?" I heard a voice from seemingly under the shower.

"Oh, I don't really care. All he saw was my fat anyway." I smirked, whenever I insulted myself, it really got on his nerves.

"Would you shut up? I could shish kabob you with a fork you know! But anyway, as I was saying before he caused an interruption…"

"Do you know him?" I asked, letting the water soak my hair and run down my back. It stung some of my cuts, but after the pain it was so calming.

"We're old pals." I could hear him chuckle. "But listen to me Aubry; you need to stay here, at least for a little while."

"But why? I was thinking about splitting tomorrow or the next night if the weather is foul." I lathered up a wash cloth and began my mission of scrubbing the grime off of me.

"Because, I am all knowing, and you should know that by now. So why don't you just listen to me for once?" I could hear his plea, and laughed.

"All knowing? Funny! Your only half-knowing. And I'm much more all knowing than your half knowing self could ever be." I gave an innocent smile that I didn't know if he could see or not.

"Aubry Elizabeth, you listen to me right now!" I could hear his voice whine through the shower walls, he sounded like my mother.

"Bite me, Mr. Diablo, I'm not staying here any longer than I have to."

"Then where the hell are you going to go? Huh?" If he were standing in front of me, he would have jabbed me with a boney finger.

I stood still, letting the water glide down me, I let my head fall to the side. "I don't know. But I don't want to intrude on Johnny for much longer."

"I wouldn't worry, I've seen part of your future, it's much better off here." his voice turned paternally soft, "I must leave now, the President is at a strip club, I have to see this…"

"Alright, well, come back soon." placed my hand on the shower wall.

"I'm always checking up on you, you just don't know it." I could tell he had a smile on his face. Before he left, I could have sworn I heard him whisper, "And by the way, you're not intruding on him, he really likes your company."

I heard the door open and Johnny's voice saying "Are you talking to someone?"

"No, just myself." I smiled.

_I would tell you you're a liar, but he'd think you were crazy if you told him you were talking to the Devil. _

I smiled at Enne and finished my shower trying not to think about anything, I think I deserved some kind of mindless pleasure.


	7. Channel 4, KKTS News

WOAH! Two stories up in ONE DAY! I feel accomplished. Please review if you liked it, it inspires me to write more, faster, and better! And by the way, I have a new story up, it's a God of War fanfiction, but you don't have to play the game to read it, I'd appriciate it if you would check it out for me!

I was glad to hear Enne's voice again. I was glad that I had some friends again. The water began to run colder and colder, and I figured I should save some for Johnny. Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed the towel and flung it around my shivering self. I wiped some of the fog off the mirror so that I could examine myself.

Disgusting.

No make up, my eyes looked deeply set and there were dark, dark circles surrounding them. For the first time, I looked like a raccoon _without_ my makeup. I had managed to remove all the grime from every inch of me, I scrubbed and I lathered, and it all eventually came off. My exhaustion flooded over me, sort of like when you stick your hand into a full cup of water to retrieve something in the bottom…

I grabbed my clothes, I didn't care enough to put them back on. With the towel draped over me, I hobbled back into the room where I thought Johnny would be.

He was hunched over his drawing table, sketching like crazy away at a piece of paper. I leaned up against the doorway for a moment, watching it all, taking in the simple beauty of an artist at his work. He seemed to curve around to face me, looking up at me in innocent concentration.

"I'm sorry to disrupt you, but I'm about to pass out from not getting a normal sleep for a few weeks…I was wondering if you had a spare bedroom…" I hoped I wasn't being rude, but the floor does get mighty uncomfortable.

He stared at me for a minute, almost like he was zoning off into space, and then he shook himself out of it and pulled himself up out of the chair. "Of course, this way." He coughed and lead me through the hall, pushed open another door and down another hall. He really did have a big house. Eventually he stopped me to open a door just a few feet down from the door to get into the original hallway (if this wasn't confusing enough, everything looked the same. I'd never be able to get out of here, even if I tried.). He opened the door to unveil a surprisingly delightful room. It was plain, no doubt, but humble and cozy. There was a small full sized bed in corner, and a bookshelf next to it. There was a TV and even a little chair. There were no windows, no source of light, except for a small reading lamp that gave off a dull glow.

"If you need anything, just give me a holler." I waited until I had stepped into the room to turn and walk away.

"Wait!" I said, stopping him so that he waltzed back in the room, looking slightly annoyed. I took a few steps over to him, and slipped my arms around him. "Thanks."

The embrace was short and plutonic, and I hoped it wouldn't upset him. He didn't seem like a very interacting person. But as I pulled away, I could have sworn I saw a smile under his harsh features.

"Yeah, no problem." he slid out the door and closed it loudly.

I shrugged, it was an attempt. I wrapped the towel tighter around me and admired the simplicity of the room. The wood furniture, the dust that has settled of the shelf, the moldy smell of old books, I couldn't have been happier. I don't remember the last time I had been in a real bed. I suppose it would have been a few weeks ago. I sat on the edge of the bed, tired, but curious, so I skimmed through the titles of the books, looking for any familiarity.

Johnny walked down the hall by himself, which is what he enjoyed. Don't be fooled though, he does enjoy company every so often. He tried to wipe the water droplets off of his shirt. He was surprised at himself at how nice he was being. It was very unlike his usual self. He had planned to kill her in the shower, water does bring out the lovely color of blood, but he had got so caught up in a new drawing, he had forgotten. Ah well, I suppose another day or two with her around couldn't be so bad. As he retook his place at his drawing table, he looked down at his drawing, he noticed something very different about this piece of work. Instead of little stick figures, the ones that yell out vulgar things, this was far more detailed. Johnny hadn't drawn anything like this in a long time. It was a crying baby who sat in the corner of a dark room. His little face was contorted with agony. But where were the parents? Johnny didn't know. He picked up the paper, about to crumble it, who needs spare pictures of crying babies? No one, he told himself, but instead of tearing it up or tossing it aside, he placed it below a drawing tablet on his table. As he looked out the window, he thought he saw a flash of something…a face? Was is Todd, or Squee (as Johnny affectionately liked to call him)? He squinted his eyes to look harder, but gave up due to apathy after a short time. He figured he should head off to bed, so that he could sit and ponder, he disliked sleeping. He had lied to her (by omission). There was no spare bedroom in his house. He had allowed her to have his own. People don't scream as loud when they are tired. Trudging to the basement door, he followed the steps down into the lower floor, remembering a mattress he kept down there.

I tried to stay awake. I knew I was too tired to start a book, so why bother? I turned on the TV, and the only channel I could find was the news. My eyes couldn't keep open for more than five minutes. And as I let myself doze off into sleep, I vaguely remember a new report:

_"Today three bodies where found completely mutilated in a back alley. It follows the pattern of an unknown killer. He's kidnapped and maimed hundreds, and he still remains illusive." _


End file.
